Liza with a Zee,
Liza went to sea,
to sail the oceans blue:
in a boat of crimson hue;
she travelled ‘cross the waves,
had close and distant shaves,
met mernaids by the score,
and washed up on a distant shore
many leagues away
from when she set out that day.
An island she had found,
not quite but sort of round,
with fruit upon the trees,
she lived a life of ease;
for many, many years,
she dwelt, now her ending nears.
Liza lay upon the sand,
a smile on her face,
that only she’d understand.
Graeme Sandford 